


Séduire le Coeur

by ainsusyaga



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Plays the Piano, F/M, Not really sure, Romance, hopefully?, possible angst, second time's a charm?, whoops a rival, wowww
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-19 21:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ainsusyaga/pseuds/ainsusyaga
Summary: Adrien can't figure out the reason for his piano funk and needs help.By getting closer to Marinette, he realizes that he can get his piano groove back on.





	1. Prokofiev Sonata No.6 Op.82 Mvt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette thinks Adrien's a snob, but he's not  
> Adrien really likes croissants  
> Marinette really likes to get flustered  
> Adrien's really angry and no one knows why

“Hey, look. It’s Adrien.” Alya nodded over at the other side of the classroom. Marinette hummed as the pored over her designs, wondering how in the world she ever made those. Was she half asleep? Maybe sleep-walking? Alya nudged her and pointed. “I said, _look_.” Marinette looked up, finally. Yes, it was Adrien Agreste. In their Literature class. What else was new?

“Alya, he’s here everyday. _We’re in the same class_.” Marinette shook her head, but looked at him anyways. Saying he was there everyday was quite an overstatement. Many days he wasn’t present and it was usually because he had some prior engagement relating to his piano career or his modeling career. One of them. “What’s so special about him, anyways? He’s just some snob.”

Alya snorted. “That’s just rude. Isn’t it you who says not to judge a book by its cover?” Marinette wrinkled her nose looking at him. It was true. She _did_ say that. She looked at Alya with a look of resignation. “Just-- Hey, give the guy a chance. He seems nice.”

Now it was Marinette’s time to snort. She looked over again. Adrien was with his friend, Nino. They were always together. It didn’t really seem like he needed any other companionship. “I think he’s fine. He has friends. Oh, wait. Don’t look. He’s coming this way.” Marinette continued to pore over her book again but Alya continued to stare.

“Hey, look who’s finally in class, huh?” Alya joked. Meanwhile, she nudged Nino’s stomach by the elbow. “What’s up, loser.” Nino frowns and is about to bite back when Adrien laughs.

Marinette closes the book and puts it back into her bag, but not before her eyes dart over to the tall blonde.

“Yeah, I finally don’t have anything scheduled, for once.” Adrien sighed contently, placing a hand on his bookbag. “I like being here.” Alya furrowed her brows in disgust.

Nino grinned and placed an arm around Adrien’s shoulder. Adrien threw his head back and laughed at something Nino whispered into his ear and put his bag down at the desk right in front of Marinette. Did they always sit there? Marinette wondered. She turned her left to the right and saw Chloe and Sabrina sitting at one of the desks. She forgot how much Nino didn’t like Chloe and how much Adrien didn’t really seem to mind them.

“Looks like Nino dragged him over here to get away from Queen Bee over there.” Alya whispered over to her best friend, as if reading her mind. Marinette stifled a laugh and looked to the front when the professor walked in.

Partway through the lecture, Marinette’s eyes began to shift around until they landed on Adrien. He was attentive and listening to the professor with all ears. She wondered what his childhood was like. He was homeschooled from birth until he became a high school graduate. And now he’s here, as a sophomore in university. Why was he here?

When class was over, Adrien looked up from his notes and stretched backwards with his arms joining right in front of Marinette’s desk. She looked at his hands and could only think how these were the very hands that were loved in Paris. These were the hands that played at every theater and made everyone smile and close their eyes because it was emotional and powerful at the same time.

She brought up her pencil to trace out the curves in his hands and the wideness of his nail bed when she accidentally tapped his ring finger. Adrien stopped stretching and turned around to look at Marinette, who was frozen in her spot, pencil still where it was when she was admiring his hands. She wished class was still going on so she could maybe shush him and tell him to face the front, but she couldn’t do that. Not when Nino and Alya were already starting to wrap up and might’ve thought something suspicious about how the two were just staring at each other.

“I-I’m sorry,” Marinette stuttered. “I was--was just, uh… Sorry.” Her head dropped to her lap and in a flash of lightning, she grabbed all of her things and left the classroom.

As she ran, she wanted to hit herself. She could’ve done anything else. Why did she have to run out like a heartbroken heroine? Something about the innocent and clear look in Adrien’s eyes made her feel like she shouldn’t mess up in front of them. Was it the eyes? No, those green eyes weren’t judgmental. It was his upbringing. She didn’t want the celebrity to remember her as the weird chick who probably has a hand fetish.

Marinette heard Alya calling after her and groaned.

 

* * *

 

“Bro, what’d you do to her?” Nino asked when Marinette ran out of the classroom. Alya leaned on her desk to look at him threateningly.

Adrien raised his arms up and shook his head. “No clue! She tapped my hand earlier and I turned around because I thought she had to tell me something.” He remembered how excited he was that the girl he thought hated him wanted to speak to him for the first time, and how somehow he gave her the idea that he was angry at her. He sighed and drooped his shoulders.

Alya rolled her eyes. “Well, why don’t you go tell her something? She’s probably going to mull around about it for a long time, so you should do something about it.” Adrien looked at her with doubt in his eyes. He didn’t want to push any boundaries. Marinette did well in ignoring him ever since he started the semester with her, and she was already a bit of a stuttering mess when he was around. If we approached her, what if she closed off even more? “Oh, _come on_.” Alya dragged Adrien out of his seat and pulled him out into the hallway.

From there, she rushed down and yelled after Marinette. Adrien watched as Alya talked to Marinette and pointed in his direction. Adrien grinned and smiled back, and Marinette’s eyes rolled to the back of her head before she buried her face in her hands. Alya continued to talk to her, while she glanced over in Adrien’s direction. He was still smiling and waving. What was happening?

Eventually, Alya dragged Marinette over to Nino and Adrien. “Now, Marinette. What did you want to say to Adrien?”

Marinette’s face was still buried in her hands. When she looked up, her eyes were wide and blue and her bottom lip was quivering. Adrien was feeling guilty, even though he wasn’t really the one to force her to come over.

“I-I’m sorry I was admiring your hands.” Marinette said softly. Adrien’s eyes widened in shock. All this because she was admiring his hands? He looked at his palm and turned it over to look at his fingers, curling them and stretching them back out.

Adrien laughed and put one hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it!” Marinette’s shoulders deflated in relief and he saw her eyes clear up. He was staring into them for a while before he realized that Nino and Alya had walked away without him or Marinette noticing. “But, hey, don’t be embarrassed. I like your, um… Your eyes.” it sounded like Adrien just pulled it out of his behind, but he really meant it.

Marinette laughed. “Thank you.” Somehow, in that awkward encounter that probably could have ended in Marinette running away in tears after seeing him was turned into a funny story. “Well, I have to go. I’ll see you later.” Adrien smiled and waved at her as she walked away.

“Oh, _come on_ , man!”

Adrien turned around to see Nino appear out of the corner of the hallway with Alya. “What?” Adrien asked.

Nino rolled his eyes and gestured to Marinette, who was walking away. “That was the perfect opportunity to get to know her! You could have gotten her deets, or something. Or you could have asked her to hang out.” Nino rolled his eyes again.

“What?” Adrien was shocked. He glanced over his back to see Marinette turn into the hallway. “Why would I do that? I just want to be friends with her. You make it sound like… Like I’m--” He stopped himself when he looked at the face Nino and Alya were both giving him. “Today was literally the first time we’ve ever spoken! I don’t see her that way!”

Nino and Alya shared a look. “Now, Adrien. Why don’t you tell Alya about the things you say about Marinette when we’re out of school? Alya, did you know that for every time that Adrien brings up Marinette in one of our conversations, his dad breaks the third wall with a grumpy cat frown?”

“So, like… Every other hour?” Alya asked. Adrien didn’t know why it seemed like Alya already knew about this information before they decided to make fun of him. Is this what they plan? To get Adrien and Marinette together?

“No, guys. I swear. I don’t see Marinette in any other way except a potential friend.” It wasn’t a lie about how Adrien brought up Marinette in his conversations. It didn’t happen every other hour, and it’s not like it happened every day, either. But he guessed it was probably enough to be suspicious. He always wanted to be friends with her. She was like a little mini celebrity in the school and he wanted to talk to the person everyone has in high regard.

“Are you sure?” Nino asked.

Adrien nods, almost sarcastically. “Yes, I’m sure.”

 

Adrien walked through the shop doors, listening to the bell jingle. “Bonjour,” he says, as he looks at the display.

“How may I help yyy---- Adrien?”

The voice was familiar, and it was undoubtedly surprised. Adrien looked up from the croissants and locks eyes with Marinette. Adrien stands up straight, instinctively bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. Marinette is standing behind the counter and is just staring at him. He couldn’t tell if the look she had was horrified or just surprised. Maybe both.

“Wow, what a coincidence.” Adrien laughs awkwardly. “I didn’t know you worked here.” He really didn’t. He just got back from practicing piano at his studio and decided to grab something at a bakery before he left. Nino suggested the bakery--- _oh._

Marinette laughed awkwardly and spoke to him with her eyes trained somewhere else, like she couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Well, my parents own the place.” Adrien nodded, walking up to her. He was really feeling awkward, but he couldn’t just walk out now.

“May I have one of those croissants?” Adrien asks, pulling out his wallet.

“Of course. And--” she puts a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on me. Or-- It’s on the house.” She smiles at Adrien and now it’s his turn to get embarrassed. For what, he didn’t know.

Adrien takes a look around the shop and shifts his weight onto his left leg, getting comfortable. He receives the croissant from Marinette and just kind of stands there. _Get to know her_ , Nino’s voice echoes in his head. “So, what do you do in your free time?” he asked.

She’s definitely taken off guard. She probably just expected him to say thank you and leave. He definitely would have done that, but he really, really wants a friend. Other than Nino, of course. “Well, I… I help out here. Sometimes I help out Alya when she’s working on something for journalism. And I.. uh…” she whispers the last part to quietly that he almost didn’t catch it.

“You what?” Adrien leans over so he could hear her.

Marinette has a shy smile when she looks at him and fiddles with her fingers. “I design.” Adrien’s eyes lit up.

“Oh really? That’s awesome! There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Adrien shook his head. “What do you do?”

“I-well, I’ve only ever joined one contest before.” Marinette starts, slowly starting to unravel. “It was one your dad held in my high school. The bowler hat that you wore once. I made it.” She shrugs almost like it was a bad experience, but she smiles softly.

Adrien distinctly remembers having to take allergy pills that day he wore it for a photoshoot. “I heard there were some issues in that contest. But my dad and Nathalie wouldn’t tell me anything.” Marinette seems to ponder it for a while then shrugs. Adrien sees how her eyebrows sort of furrow in the middle and wonders if, had he talked to her sooner, they’d be friends and he’d know all these things about her.

“That day, Ch-er, wel, _someone_ ,” Marinette corrects herself. “Someone had someone else copy my design and I almost got in trouble for plagiarizing, when it was actually someone else to stole my design. Thankfully, I’d sewed on my insignia in the inner lining, so I won the contest fair and square.”

“Oh, geez. Sorry about that. Who was it?” Adrien asked. Marinette shook her her. She didn’t want to throw anyone under the bus. He was starting to see why everyone spoke so well of her.

“I won’t specify names.” Marinette laughed, clearly and vibrantly. If there weren’t stacks of bread along the walls, her laugh probably would’ve echoed like a chime. “But what about you, Adrien? What do you do?”

“Well, as you know, I’m a model.” Adrien gestures to a poster right outside of the shop. It’s got his face on it, and he’s advertising cologne. Marinette shakes her head from side to side and laughs. “But I also play piano. In fact, I just got back from practice. I usually like to grab something to eat when I get back. Nino actually recommended this bakery to me, but he didn’t say that your family owned it.”

“Probably some trick.” Marinette rolled her eyes with a smile. The two looked at each other and burst out in laughter.

The atmosphere was comfortable, and they talked and talked until Adrien took out his phone to see 3 messages from Nathalie. Not a good sign.

“Well, I should go.” Adrien says, also checking his watch. It was about thirty minutes since he walked into the shop. 7:30 was too late for Nathalie. Adrien had only meant to walk in, grab something, and leave. Talking to Marinette was comfortable and fun. “It was nice talking to you.” Marinette grinned and waved at him as he walked towards the door. He turned around one last time and grinned.

“ _Salut!”_

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette walked into the classroom and saw Adrien already sitting down, talking to Nino. He didn’t seem to notice her yet, so she just went ahead to her seat and sat down, preparing her books.

“Hey, Marinette.” Adrien looked up at her from his spot and smiled at her. His eyes were like sparkling emeralds. They were always so bright and happy.

She smiled back at him, trying to resist the adrenaline rush she got when she spoke to him. “Hey yourself, Adrien.”

Nino looked between the two of them, open mouthed and in disbelief. “What _happened_?”

Adrien rolled his eyes, nudging his friend’s shoulder. “We’re friends now, that’s what.” He looked at Marinette. Now, there was a small _zap!_ of something she could not describe. Maybe it was her realizing that he was not what she thought he was. Or maybe it was that he was so nice when she didn’t expect that. Or how he loved his pastries as much as the next guy and how he had to smuggle it into his house, and she definitely didn’t think Adrien Agreste would be a pastry lover.

Alya didn’t show up for class. Her and her journalism class were taking a trip to America to learn about… Something. Marinette didn’t remember. All she knew was that she’d be alone for the next three months and that she’d be an easier target. To who? Of course… It was Chloe Bourgeois.

“Adrikins!” Chloe walked over to Adrien’s side and smothered him in a hug, placing a kiss on his cheek, leaving glittering sticky lip gloss residue. “I’ve got tickets to see some pianist on Saturday and I wanted to invite… Oh, would you look at that? It’s the baker’s daughter.” Chloe sneered at Marinette, who just kind of shrinks away.

“I better not be catching you going after something you can’t afford.” Chloe cackled. Marinette looked down into her lap. She remembered when Chloe slipped her bracelet into Marinette’s bag and accused her of stealing it in high school. Thankfully, Chloe was caught and reprimanded, but ever since then, she’d been treating Marinette like she was lesser than anybody else. “How about you do me a favor and switch spots with me and Sabrina? I need to be around Adrien more. I know he misses me as much as I miss him.” She hugs him tightly and Adrien just glances at her worriedly.

Marinette almost stands up to move when Adrien pushed Chloe away. “No, Marinette. Stay.” He stands up and places a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Chloe, what’s your deal? Marinette wasn’t even doing anything. Why are you attacking her?” Chloe almost responds but scoffs and walks back to her seat. Adrien sighs and leans over onto Marinette’s desk.

“Are you okay? What’s going on between you two?” Adrien asked. Marinette looks up to him and smiles. Nothing’s wrong. She deals with this a lot. Adrien just isn’t as used to it as everyone else is.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? Nothing’s going on between us. Chloe just likes to…” Marinette almost says _pick on me more than everyone else_. But if she said that, she’d have to explain why. But she didn’t know why. And if she said that, she’d probably be treated like a charity case. She’s not a charity case. “Anyways, just don’t worry about it. It’s my life. I deal with my own problems.” Except she’d call Alya tonight. Alya always cheered her up in these types of situations.

Adrien squeezes her shoulder and sits down. She didn’t even care about how Chloe berated her in front of Adrien. All she could think about was how she could still feel the warmth of Adrien’s hand on her shoulder and how much she wanted to lock away that warmth and keep it forever.

Class ends and Marinette is just about to walk out of class when Adrien stops her. She sees him tell Nino to go on ahead without him before he smiles down at Marinette. “Listen, I know how Chloe can be. I don’t really know what’s going on with her recently, but she didn’t used to be like this. I hope you understand.” She wasn’t very close to Adrien, so she wasn’t really expecting much. But this? _Oh, Adrien. If only you knew_.

“Alright, thanks. But don’t worry about it. It doesn’t bother me.” Oh, geez. Marinette was a pushover. She hated herself for it. She always let Chloe trample all over her and the only one she could talk to about it was Alya, who wasn’t even here.

She continues on, but Adrien grabs her by the wrist and pulls her back. “Wait, I wasn’t done.” Adrien sheepishly scratches the back of his neck and grins. “I wanted to know if… If you wanted to hang out on Saturday? I have a photoshoot that day, and I thought that since you’re into that sort of design stuff, you could see what happens behind the scenes. Costume changes, outfits, makeup, all that sort of stuff. I don’t really know anything about that at all, but I figured that it might be a good experience for you.”

What?

A _good experience_ ? It would be an _amazing experience._ Between the euphoria that she was given the chance of the decade or the fact that Adrien remembered this detail about her and wanted to hang out with her, she was just _so, so_ happy.

“Y-yes!” Marinette laughed, taking both of his hands between hers. “Thank you. _So_ much.” She smiles again. She smiles a lot when Adrien’s around. And he smiles a lot, too. She can see his eyes curve into those half moons. She can see how the green shines brightly when he’s happy, or relieved.

“It’s a date.”

 

* * *

 

Adrien sat at his piano bench, uninspired. He learned while growing up that you can’t just play music on a page to get people to enjoy your performance. You’d have to feel the meaning behind the music and know your own feelings and you have to be able to _put your feelings_ into the music. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know what could possibly put him in such a funk. But whatever it was, he’d need to get out.

Nino, the funkiest person that Adrien knew, probably had some sort of suggestion.

“ _Heeeello. Best friend speaking.”_

Adrien rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Nino, I’m in a funk.”

_“Like, one of those, ‘I don’t have feelings and I can’t play piano’ sort of things?”_

“Exactly.”

_“Since when did widdle Adwien Agweste have widdle issues with his widdle piano pwaying?”_

“Come on, man,” Adrien laughed. “It’s a pretty common problem with those of my creative sort.”

_“Nah, I’m just joking. I know where you’re coming from.”_

“Help a bro out?”

 _“Hmm._ ” Adrien could hear Nino tutting his lips as he thought about Adrien’s issue. _“Alright. I think I’ve got it.”_ Adrien waited silently for Nino to voice his idea.

“... yes?”

_“Maybe go back to your roots? And I don’t mean like just remembering where you came from or whatever. Think about what makes you happy, what makes you sad, what makes you angry… that sort of stuff.”_

“Alright, maybe. I’ve never really had an issue with… pianists block. I always just _did_ it and it was fine.” Adrien sighed. He felt stupid. He liked piano, he really did. Even if he didn’t like it when he was younger. When he came to terms with his being locked away in his house forever (an over exaggeration), he realized that piano was a good way to relieve some of the feelings he had pent up.

 _“You’ve just got it a little late, bro. I get the same sometimes when I put together a new mix. Or when I try to. Then I remember Alya and all the fun things we do together and how happy she makes me.”_ When Nino didn’t hear Adrien say anything back, he coughed, embarrassed. _“Come on, don’t give me the radio silence. That was awkward.”_

Adrien turned around on his bench and sat criss-crossed, wiping the non-existent dust off the sides of the keyboard. Man. The cleaners really do a good job at this studio. “Have you thought about what you wanna do? With Alya, I mean. You two aren’t even going out but you flirt like you are. Get a move on,” he teased.

 _“Wh-wha-what? No way! Things like this take time. Patience. And besides, I don’t even know if Alya likes me back._ ”

“You _can’t_ be serious. You and Alya tease me all the time with Marinette but we haven’t even talked until yesterday. Man, you hypocrites.”

 _“Of course we’re going to make fun of you! Mr. Homeschooled is finally_ going to school _and is showing an interest in Miss Class-Idol-But-Not-Really-That-Every-Dude-Is-In-Love-With. What better thing than that?”_

Was Marinette such a lusted after icon in their class? “Really?”

 _“Oh, heck yeah! She’s the dream. I mean,_ I _used to like her back in the day. She’s innocent, she’s nice, but she’s got no backbone. As you saw today with Chloe.”_

Adrien twisted his lips in thought. “Hey, bro, I’ll talk to you later. Thanks!” Nino yelled out a _Saluuuuuuut!_ before Adrien ended the call.

Spinning back on his bench, he faced the keys again. He begun the Prokofiev Sonata 6 Movement 1. Aaaahhh… That was definitely what he was feeling.

Disarray, a mix between confusion and and anger. _Oh, man_. He was mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I actually started a fic by the same name maybe around 2016? Or was it 2015, I don't remember. It was similar to this plotline and I think it went pretty well for the first, like... Two chapters. But around chapter four I just couldn't get the vibe going. I took a long LONG time just trying to update chapter three so I guess I'm sort of a disappointment as a writer. I really tried. I'd just sit at my computer and stare at what I'd written, just to erase it all.  
> So I deleted it and got started on this one. It took maybe four drafts to get to this plotline, and honestly, it's a bit rushed. But I'm trying, and I hope y'all like it.


	2. Elgar Salut d'Amour Op. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's really, really angry  
> Marinette's having a fine day so far  
> Nathaniel???

“Now, is that how I taught you to play?” a disapproving voice cut through the moving notes as Adrien panted and stared at the sheet music. Gabriel Agreste walked to Adrien’s side, hands behind his back. “Rugged, vile, rough, uncultured--” Gabriel spat. He definitely expected more from Adrien. But Adrien didn’t care.

“Why are you here, father?” Adrien muttered quietly. He didn’t dare look up into his father’s eyes. If he did, 20 years worth of discipline and trying to please him would come back. It was only when Adrien turned eighteen that he mustered up the courage to propose that he move out. His father yelled at him, and out of anger, Adrien yelled back and stormed out of the room. He already had plenty of his own money to rent out his own studio away from the Gabriel building and mansion. “And how did you get a key?”

“Nathalie acquired me a key.” Gabriel said simply. Adrien cursed. Nathalie’s only desire was to stick up to Gabriel. He didn’t know how in the world they could have gotten a copy, but they did. Which meant either Adrien would ask for a new doorknob, or he moved. And  _ just _ when he was starting to feel comfortable. “I want to know what you plan to do. I’m not here to guide you, so I came to check on my dear son.”

Adrien stood up with his head still looking down. Even when he wasn’t looking at his father, he felt his eyes boring into his head. It almost hurt. “I don’t  _ need _ you to  _ guide _ me. I manage completely well on my own. I’ve  _ been _ managing well on my own. It’s rather ridiculous of you to come into  _ my _ space and suddenly decide to be a father.” Gabriel didn’t make any indication that he was bothered by anything Adrien said.

Playing an angry piece was supposed to ease Adrien’s anger. But now with the appearance of his father, he was even more angry. “Tell me what you’re doing, and I’ll leave. Simple as that.” 

“ _ What I’m doing?! _ ” Adrien yelled. He pulled his chin up and glared into his father’s eyes. The icy look that his father always had, that always made him feel like he was insignificant was darker. There was a deep, simmering anger that Adrien almost backed from. “I’m just trying to live my life. I’ve been stuck in your mansion ever since I was little, ever since  _ mom died _ !  _ Family _ was something that never existed and I’m not about to pretend it was something I’ve ever been familiar with.” He remembered staying over Nino’s house when he was still a freshman at Uni. That was the closest thing to family he’d ever felt.

“Leave.” Adrien seethed. He was so angry today. He didn’t want to deal with anything. From unfairness that stemmed from someone he thought was one of his only childhood friends, and the weakness of a girl who was actually anything but, to a father who still only wanted to control him. “You-- _ you sperm bank _ .” it was a sad insult, and if he were in any other situation, he would have laughed at himself. But he was tired and didn’t care.

Gabriel didn’t say anything. Any expression that was on his face was unchanged. Instead, he turned on his heels and walked out of the studio, leaving Adrien, still angry and confused. He walked over to his sofa and plopped down on to it, putting his face into his hands, groaning.

“Hey, bro, are you okay?” a Nino-like voice whispered. “I saw your dad walk out and almost shat my pants. Are you okay?” Adrien didn’t answer, but looked up when he caught a whiff of familiar croissants. 

“Are those from the Dupain-Cheng bakery?” he asked, staring at a brown bag in Nino’s hand. Nino grinned and put it into Adrien’s lap before making himself comfortable in another seat.

Adrien opened the bag and was glad he was lucky enough to have Nino as a friend. He stuffed a croissant into his mouth and groaned. “‘Dis if amazghn,” he said through a mouthful.

“Alright, and after you finish that, you tell me what happened. And why you hung up on me so suddenly.” Nino looked at his friend pointedly. “I was so surprised I figured you were probably angry about something. So I left and picked up some croissants on the way. Good thing, though. Seeing your dad walk out of the room?” Nino clicked his tongue twice and motioned at his throat.

Adrien swallowed and took a swig from a water bottle he had on his coffee table. “I honestly don’t really know. I was too angry. He kept telling me to tell him what I was planning to do, or something. Doesn’t really matter to me.” But it did matter to him. It was silence on both ends ever since Adrien moved out two years ago. What could have caused the neglectful father to suddenly have in interest in his son’s life?

Nino sighed and stretched his back until he heard audible pops. “Well, whatever it is, don’t let it get to you. I just wanted to know if you were okay.” He dug through his backpack and pulled out two games. “Anyways, how about we binge-play COD and Final Fantasy XIII from start to finish?” Adrien laughed. 

“Man, I’d love to, but I need to figure out my funk. I have a concert in two weeks and something going on on Saturday. I want to be prepared for it.” 

“You mean Marinette, right? You want to be prepared for  _ Marinette? _ ” Nino looked over at Adrien and wriggled his brows suggestively. “Why, you gonna serenade her with you piano funkiness?” Adrien frowned. 

Scoffing, he said, “There’s no possible way I’d seduce  _ anybody _ with the way my playings been. Ever since I’ve got my block, the only sort of feeling I can express is anger. And it’s partly due to my father.” 

“And the rest of it?”

He wondered if he should tell Nino. If he did, he would undoubtedly get teased. Adrien rarely ever exhibited anger. He was generally a very calm and easygoing person. Telling Nino would be telling Nino that Marinette was already filling up his mind and he didn’t want to get made fun of. “Other places,” he said vaguely.

Nino hummed, not realizing how Adrien avoided the question. “So basically… You can’t play COD and Final Fantasy with me?”

“I don’t even know how we could play Final Fantasy  _ together _ .” Adrien crooked a brow, looking at his friend’s disc case of  _ Lightning Returns _ . 

“Easy.” Nino placed the discs on the coffee table. “I play, and you watch. With occasional commentary.” Adrien stood up and walked up to Nino.

And pushed him over.

“Ow! Hey!”

 

Adrien was alone again, in his studio. The opened grand piano was starting to look like a monster that was threatening him to play it, but whenever he did, it would bite at him because it didn’t like the way he was playing. And neither did he.

“Come on, feelings, feelings…” Adrien muttered under his breath. He thought long and hard, and nothing was coming.

“Ugh,  _ damnit.” _

 

The Eiffel Tower was brighter on nights where Adrien didn’t know his worth. Like that night, for example. He wasn’t really sure where his passion for piano lied. How funny. The  _ prodigy pianist _ didn’t even know if he liked piano anymore. The only reason he hated piano as a kid was because of his father, and the only reason he liked it was because he didn’t have anything else, and now he could barely play it for who knows why. 

He was staring outside his window, trying to ignore the cigarette smoke from below him.  _ Great _ . Now he couldn’t even feel bad for himself in peace. 

Adrien always had to remind himself that he was never alone. There was always someone going through something worse than him, staring at the same Eiffel Tower, probably even smelling the same nasty cigarette smoke. Maybe Marinette was going through something nobody knew about.

Marinette was someone he wanted to be like. He wanted to be as passionate for piano as she is about designing. He wanted her beautiful family life, he wanted her friends and her reputation. He  _ definitely _ didn’t want Chloe’s hatred, but then again, who  _ wants _ to be hated? Adrien wanted to be in Marinette’s world. The world that was so far beautiful and sparkly and everything he ever wanted. 

Adrien shut the window and pulled on a trench coat and scarf. He needed to walk this off. He’d never known himself to be so negative, even as a teenager. If this was the price of independence… He didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

His keys jangled in his pocket as he walked out of the soundproof studio. He wished he had Nino with him, instead of kicking out just so he could stare gape-mouthed at another piano score. Sadness, betrayal, happiness,  _ love _ . What more could he add to his list of things he couldn’t express?

As he walked, he smelled the familiar scent of bread. Looking to the left, he saw it. The Dupain-Cheng bakery. It still smelled like fresh-baked goods, and they were already closed. Maybe that’s just what family smelled like. Looking up, he realized there was a patio that he never knew about. And on that patio, on that chaise, was Marinette. Despite the cold weather, she was wearing shorts and a loose t-shirt, staring into the Eiffel Tower, just as he had been. The only thing was that she didn’t have the cigarette smoke to constantly pull her out of her thoughts.

He wanted to call out to her and say hello, but he saw everything he wanted in that thin body, knees clutched close to her chest, chin resting atop the knees. He didn’t need the fancy trench coat he got as a souvenir from the modeling gig he got last year. He didn’t need the fancy leather shoes the fancy brand gifted him on his birthday. He didn’t need validation from the entirety of Paris to know that he was perfect just the way he was, because they didn’t know who he was. He wanted to be like Marinette. 

Whose friends will always assure her that she’s perfect as she is. And the best validation you could get is the validation you get from the people you cared about.

_ What are you thinking about _ , Adrien thought. “Tell me what bothers you, and I’ll hold you so tight you’ll forget about all your problems.” He whispered. Marinette probably heard the shush-shush of his voice, because her head turned, confused. Smiling, he walked back to his studio. One day, he’d have the courage to tell her that face-to-face.

 

* * *

  
  


The fountain water was gushing normally; with little children running around it happily, normally; with adults anxiously watching their children, normally. The only thing in the park on that Thursday morning was most definitely Marinette. Marinette kept grabbing at the places where Adrien touched her. Her shoulder, her arm, even her hand. Even when she was trying not to think of him, a smile kept creeping up her face.  _ Man,  _ Marinette was such a creep. 

_ … hang out with me on Saturday? _

Words from yesterday kept replaying in Marinette’s mind. Was she going through some sort of late puberty? Should she visit her gyno? 

_ No, Marinette. Stop. _

What could Adrien have possibly done to make her so smitten with him? He was constantly on her mind. If she was such a swooner, it’ve been better if she found out about it maybe five years ago, so she would be more careful. And out of  _ all people _ , it had to be  _ Adrien Agreste _ . Ugh.

“Wow, hi, M-Marinette.” 

She looked up, and Nathaniel was in front of her, sketchbook in hand, blocking out the sun. She smiled at him. Despite being in the same class all throughout middle school and high school, and coincidentally having him in her freshman Literature class, she never really got to talk to him. 

“Hey, Nathaniel. Good day, huh?” They both looked up at the sky at the same time. Blue and white. But still very chilly.

He chuckled and rubbed his forearm. Must have been a nervous habit. “Yeah.” He awkwardly stood there as Marinette continued to look at him, waiting for him to continue. “S-so, uh, what’re you doing here this morning, Marinette?” She frowned and shrugged her shoulders, gesturing around her.

“Notice anything amiss?” Nathaniel looked to Marinette’s right and left. Both sides of the bench were empty. It took him awhile, but it finally clicked.

His eyes lit up, and he placed his fist into his flat palm. “Ah! Alya isn’t here.” Marinette laughed, nodding her head. “Just trying to pass the time, huh?” She brought her leg up and placed her chin on her knee.

“Yeah. I forgot what it was like before I met Alya. I guess while we hung out, I just sort of… drifted away from everybody.” She sighed.

Nathaniel looked troubled as he pointed at the bench. “Can I…?” Marinette immediately scooted over, leaving more room for Nathanial to sit. “Of course!” 

The two sat in silence. When Marinette turned her eyes towards him just a bit, she only then realized that in school, Nathaniel was always alone. “I don’t think you’ve really drifted away from anybody.” He said, after a while. “Everyone still loves you and Alya the same. People just find their new cliques, over time. But we all still talk, don’t we?” Marinette pondered what he said and eventually smiled.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

Nathaniel turned to face her, as he was still staring into the sky before. Marinette finally saw the things about him that she didn’t really notice before. How bright red his hair really was, the way it covers his eyes and how he’s been moving it out of his face for years when he could’ve just tried something new, his pale skin, the shaded turquoise hue that his eyes give off. And most of all, how nervous he seemed when he was speaking to her.

“Are you busy today?” Nathaniel asked slowly as to let the question simmer before she thought up an answer. 

Marinette played with a loose thread at the end of her shirt before looking at him and shook her head. 

“Well then,” Nathaniel stood up and took Marinette’s hand, pulling her up gently. “We’re both bored and we have no classes today. How about we do what we should’ve done years ago and get to know each other?” Marinette was stunned, even when his voice was calm and didn’t push her. Never would she have thought that he’d ask her out on any occasion. 

“Why don’t we?” Marinette said. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her out of the park. 

 

Marinette was seeing all sorts of things she’d never seen before. Well, for one, she’d never been in an art studio. After long twists and turns and radio silence from both ends, they arrived at a large building. She thought it was an apartment complex, but it was really many studios that you could rent out. 

“I’m actually living in my studio.” Nathaniel explained. “After we graduated, I saved money and moved out. So, here I am. This is where my home and studio resides. But don’t get scared--Hey!” Marinette jokingly made it seem like she was going to make a break for it. When he grasped her around the shoulders, she laughed, turning back to face the building. Nathaniel let his arm fall and opened the door for her. “Mademoiselle,”

Marinette took his offer and walked in. Following in after her, he led her up two flights of stairs and down a hallway until they reached the end. It wasn’t fancy, by any means. Heck, if she moved out and rented out a studio, it probably would have been less than what she saw here. As far as she knew, while growing up, everybody stayed at home with their parents. Even Chloe, who definitely had the money to move out.

“And here,” Nathaniel inserted his key into the hole. When he turned it and tried to open it, it stayed put. He began to mutter insults at the door as he continued to turn it again and again, but it wouldn’t give. Marinette tried not to chuckle at how flustered he was. She watched as he jiggled the knob four times before it finally opened. He let out a big breath of relief. “... my humble abode.” He stepped aside and rested his hand on Marinette’s back to gently push her inside. 

“Whoa,” Marinette sighed. The room was a bit cramped, but it was sized well. It reminded her of her attic-room at home. Except with a very big window. The windows were large and took up the wall from top to bottom. A twin bed was in a corner where a few clothes were strewn and the desk lamp was accidentally left on. Nathaniel probably felt weird about such a massive window in his room, because the blinds were shoved far enough for those outside to barely see his bed. On the other side of the room, many, many canvases were laid against the wall opposite the window, between many other canvases. She couldn’t tell which ones had been used and which ones were yet to be touched. On a big wooden table were even more canvases, stacked atop each other. 

The entire room was filled with his art. Along the wall, many other canvases of different sizes and shapes were probably drying. Each and everyone of them was a painting of a person or of a landscape and she even spotted a small self portrait hidden behind a large 150 centimeter by 120 centimeter unfinished painting of a girl. Speckled across the floor were pencil sketches, no doubt from the little sketchbook Nathaniel was holding at that very moment. 

She ran her hand down the canvas sitting on his easel, with only a brief oil paint outline of a face. “This is amazing, Nathaniel.” He was still standing by the door, a nervous close-lipped smile on his face. He quietly closed the door and walked in, accidentally slipping on a few paper sketches.

“Than--Whhooa!”

 

* * *

  
  


Marinette ran forward and caught Nathaniel by the shoulders. They immediately caught eyes. When Marinette’s long eyelashes fluttered in surprise, Nathaniel gulped. Their faces were centimeters away from each other. If he just moved a little, their noses would--

Nathaniel jumped back in surprise, landing his foot on another clump of papers. He inevitably tripped and fell on his bottom. “Ouch,” he groaned. He wanted to curl up and hide. He finally worked up the courage to talk to Marinette for maybe the third time in his entire life, and he embarrassed himself by trying to look cool opening the door and failing, and trying to  _ walk into the room _ , failing. 

She laughed good naturedly. Her hands wrapped around the arm that was wrapped around his head, and hoisted him up. He bumped shoulders with her as he stood straight. He was so much taller than her now, he noticed. In fact, he towered over her. While he used to be around the same height as her when they were fourteen, her head now barely reached his collarbones. 

“T-thank you.” he rubbed his arm, wanting to crawl into the mess of papers. “Usually it’s more cleaner… Oh, who am I kidding. It’s never clean.” he kicked aside a mess of papers by his feet. Marinette bent over and picked up a few, looking through them. 

She shook her head, flipping through the papers. “My room is just as messy when I’m trying to design something, too.” she stopped at a sketch of Marinette’s back profile from when they were in high school together. She smiled softly, tracing the pencil lines. “And besides, an artist should work in whatever environment suits them. I think this suits you best. Surrounded by your work.” She waved the sketch of her in his face, grinning cheekily. 

Nathaniel ripped it from her hands and stared at it, looking between it and her. “W-wha--I-” Marinette took it back from him, smoothing out the edges.

“Can I have this?” she asked. Nathaniel could barely form a coherent sentence before she pressed it to her chest and looked around the room more. Giving up, Nathaniel sat down on his stool and watched her. She stepped between the papers and went up to the window, looking outside. “Wow, you’ve really got the good end of the stick, huh?” She turned around. Nathaniel’s breath almost got caught in his throat. Sunlight was highlighting her hair and the reflection of the light off the wall brightened up her eyes. Man, she looked beautiful with her hair down. How badly Nathaniel wanted to freeze time just so he could sketch her. 

“You won’t think that anymore when a bird flies into the window and you get so surprised you trip on another stack of papers. Or when a bird flies into your window and your almost-finished painting gets a new pink line straight down the middle.” Marinette looked unbelieving.

She crooked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “I mean, I believe the tripping over, but not the painting.” he shrugged and stepped towards the wall, carefully this time to look through the canvases. He pulls out one and shows her, proudly.

Marinette stifled a laugh. It looked like it could have been his mother, only the pink that could’ve been her lipstick was running through through her left eye and an indent was made in the canvas; probably the force of his arm convulsion. “And you didn’t try to fix it?”

“No, I figured it’d be a good memory.” Nathaniel pushed the other canvases up against the wall and placed this one in front. “My mom didn’t like it, that’s for sure. But I made it up to her. Painted a new one and now I’m waiting for it to dry.”

“Wait, so… This bird incident was  _ recent _ ?” Marinette asked, baffled. Her surprise morphed into one of amusement and she burst out laughing. Nathaniel smiled at her. He was glad he mustered up the courage to talk to her because it meant he could see a smile that was meant for him and him only.

 

* * *

 

Adrien was sitting that morning at his piano, once again. He grabbed a random score from his shelf.  _ Marinette, Marinette, Marinette _ , he repeated in his mind. He was going to leave it up to faith. If it didn’t work out, he’d leave it for the day. If it did… Then she must be his answer.

He placed the score on the piano and began to play.

The notes were clear and connected. No harsh endings, no weird clusters. It flowed and make Adrien smile.

Ahh… That was the one.  _ Love. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's studio is big. It's fancy. Think of a rectangle. Yes, a big one. The size of your bedroom. That's his "bedroom" as well. But since studios typically don't really have any open doors, everything's just kind of out open. And now imagine your bedroom, but multiply it by at least 5. That's his living room/kitchen. It's bigger than the average studio. He lives in a building like that where there are two of those types of studios per floor. He shares the floor with some random traveler who's home at least once every two months. Him and Nino will usually hang out in his studio, but he prefers to be in Nino's house because he likes the "homey" feel it has. Nino likes to chill out with his bud without any interruptions. Wooowwwwww. In his spare time, Adrien will be in his studio, because he doesn't really have anyone other than Nino to hang out with. Chloe's a choice, but he doesn't really like her.
> 
> For Nathaniel's studio, I imagined a rectangle room where the longer side of the room was the "window wall" and the other side was where most of the canvases were resting to dry in the sun. It's not super big. If anything, just compare it's size to your bedroom. It's probably right. And on the opposite side of his bed, he has a kitchen, sink, and bathroom. The studio is very small but hey, if Marinette likes it then theres nothing wrong with the room. Nathaniel likes to spend his days painting, but because he has a bed in the corner, he feels like he's cooping himself up in his room. That's why on the average day, you'll see him sketching in the park so he's getting his daily dose of Vitamin D.


	3. El Choclo - Eduardo Rojas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has learned to appreciate Nathaniel  
> Nathaniel’s really giddy (on the inside)  
> Adrien is still learning things about himself  
> Nino’s very excited 
> 
>  
> 
> p.s. ... tango.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if some of y’all are seeing this for a second time haha I accidentally deleted it and had to repost it

Marinette was watching Nathaniel finish the painted outline of a commission work from his bed. “I never knew you got paid for your artwork,” she said, sighing appreciatively. Since he’d told her that he rented out a studio that he paid for on his own, she always wondered what he did. “It must be tiring, painting picture after picture.”

Nathaniel shrugged, putting his paintbrush down to mix together another shade of purple. “It’s fun. And in a way, it’s just how I can improve best.” His palette knife nearly fell, but he thankfully kicked a pile of sketches to break it’s fall. He froze and turned to Marinette, who was only looking at him, impressed. “It’s a habit,” he laughed awkwardly.

“No, no, you’re fine.” Marinette enjoyed watching these little quirks of Nathaniel’s. It only showed how much work he’d been putting into the things he loved and how it affected his daily routine. “I think… you’re really amazing, Nathaniel. I’ve joined contests and galas… But I’ve never been confident enough to make something and just give it away.”

He picked up his palette knife and paused in his seat before slowly turning to Marinette. “I think that being an artist and being a designer are slightly different.” he said. “B-but not in the way you’re thinking! Designing _is_ an art, I-I just meant that--”

Laughing, Marinette waved it off. “Don’t worry! But continue what you were saying?”

“B-being a designer,” Nathaniel began, “is putting your entire body into your work. Buying fabrics, testing out the colors and how rough or soft it is and even hand stitching or even folding a sock in half. I think you’re more amazing than me, Marinette. I’m limited to my canvas and paintbrush. But you can do so much more. It makes complete sense why you’d be nervous about giving away something you put your everything into. But for me? I just paint exactly what I’ve sketched out, or what picture I’ve been sent. People only want paintings because they like knowing someone put the effort into painting lines and mixing colors.” He kicked aside his sketches again, scowling.

Marinette twisted her fingers together, flattered. “W-wow, Nathaniel. I’m grateful that you’ve thought that way about me.” It felt nice, hearing something like that from someone she thought was much better than she was.

Nathaniel hid a blush and quickly turned back on his stool, beginning the painting process. “D-don’t be. It was just the truth.” Marinette smiled and hummed. She looked out the window and sighed contentedly. It was such a nice space. She might actually invest in a studio of her own, once she saves up enough money to do so. She let her body fall into the bed and turned to the side so she could look at the blinds. Hidden behind the curtain was a 30 x 30 painting of something she couldn’t tell.

Looking at the painting boy, she considered pulling aside the fabric just so she could see it, but decided against it. It was his privacy, and she’d have to respect that. Instead, she stood up and walked up to the table, right beside Nathaniel’s easel. Leaning against it, careful not to disrupt the leaning tower of paintings, she looked at him from the side.

“You really like painting and drawing, so I always figured that you’d change up your hairstyle.” Marinette said, touching her own bangs. When she was working on something, she’d always pin up her hair or tie it up into a bun. But Nathaniel was here painting, and his red hair was still hanging over his eye. He stopped painting and stared at it for a while before digging into his pants pocket.

“Actually,” Nathaniel pulled out a single medium sized butterfly clip. It was light blue and was in the shape of an actual butterfly. She could imagine that the clip contrasted in color to his hair. “I do have something. I’m just not wearing it now because… because you’re here.” Marinette scoffed, feigning offense.

“I wouldn’t make fun of you, Nathaniel!” Marinette exclaimed, almost insulted. Nathaniel’s cheeks pinked. “Go on, put it on! I don’t want to get in the way of your creative process at all.” When he didn’t budge an inch, Marinette gently took the clip out of his hands and did it herself. She combed her hands through his hair and pinned the clip around the middle of his head. She’d done it loose, probably different than however he’d do it, but it’d worked.

Taking a step back, she realized that then was probably the only time she’d ever seen Nathaniel’s full face. And his forehead.

Nathaniel stared back into her eyes, as if waiting for a response. Marinette flustered and looked away, training her eyes on the painting that he messed up because a bird flew into his window. “See? You must be able to work better now.” She saw him grin from her peripheral vision and flushed again. This time, looking at a tree that hung over right by Nathaniel’s window.

She didn’t think that pinning his hair back would illicit this type of reaction from her. Seeing both of his eyes, his freckles, and to see what it was like having his entire face focus of her… He was really cute.

 

* * *

 

Nathaniel set aside his paintbrush and stood up, looking at Marinette. A bit disappointedly, he took out the hair clip and put it back into his pocket. “How about we do something else? I know of a good cafe around the area that’s pretty cheap.” Marinette was looking at him, and he started to feel self conscious. Yeah, he wasn’t rich. But not he was starting to feel embarrassed about it.

“Actually, do you know what’s better?” Marinette asked, lifting her body off the table. She then picked up her bag from beside Nathaniel’s bed. “Free food. Let’s go to my family’s bakery.”

He flushed. He’d never been into the Dupain-Cheng bakery before. It was slightly nerve wracking, despite knowing her for so long. He always had to give himself pep talk to go _for once_ , but he stopped himself every single time. In the case that Marinette happened to be in the shop, he never knew what he would say to her. If Tom Dupain was in the shop, he would be too afraid to talk to him. If Sabine Cheng was in the shop, well… He didn’t really know. But he was still scared.

“Er… Yeah, sure!”

If Nathaniel was obviously mixed between excitement and nervousness, Marinette didn’t notice. She walked across the room and to the door, holding it open for him. In a not so grand gesture, he took the took instead and gently pushed her forward, locking up behind him when he left. “It’s always ladies first,” he grinned.

He let Marinette lead the way. It wasn’t some sort of romantic novel where the girl was skipping in front of him and saying hello to Parisians or hopping over sewer drains. What was fluttering in his chest was probably what was always mentioned in those books. He was feeling it, that fluttering. And the warmth in his chest everytime he looked at her. He’d never thought that the descriptive feelings characters felt from seeing the one they liked may have actually come from a real, plausible source. He’d drawn it many times in his comics in high school, but he never thought it was real. But it was.

The same thing was happening then where it was almosts picturesque. Marinette was only simply walking in front of him. Her hair was bouncing off the nape of her neck. It was always just around shoulder length. She never let it grow any longer than her shoulder blades. It was her look, just as his over-one-eye hair was. Except she was so much better looking with her hair than he was with his.

Sneakily, Nathaniel took his phone out from his pocket and snapped a picture of her when she was in the middle of turning to him. He quickly shoved it back in his pocket, without checking what it looked like. He’d have to check later.

“Here it is. Have you thought about what you wanted?” She spun around on her heels, gesturing to the door. Through the windows, he could see Sabine Cheng. She recognized her daughter and waved at him, knowing he was a friend of hers. He shyly raised a hand, waving back.

Marinette followed his gaze and smiled at her mother, grinning. “Well, let’s go in.” She pinched Nathaniel’s sleeve at the elbow and led him into the shop. “Hello, maman! This is Nathaniel.” Her mother smiled kindly at the two of them before pulling him into a hug.

“Oh, yes I remember you,” she said. Nathaniel remembered once when they were fourteen that both of Marinette’s parents came to school to talk about their job. He didn’t think she remembered him. “Nathaniel Kurtzberg. I wouldn’t forget that face.” She went on the tips of her toes and pinched his cheek softly, smiling gently.

Marinette seemed to have thought that whatever was happening to Nathaniel was making him uncomfortable, because she grabbed her mother by the shoulders and led her away. Nathaniel stood there, hand on cheek. It was such a motherly action that even he didn’t often get from his own. Seeing the affectionate way the mother and daughter pair interacted with each other, it was a no brainer how Marinette turned out to be such an amazing person.

A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Nathaniel, come over here and take your pick!” Marinette was calling him over from the kitchen behind the counter. Trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart, he quickly glanced at the displays on either side of him and obeyed, albeit slightly confused. When he reached the back, quietly excusing himself, the first thing he saw was Marinette and her mother bent over a mini fridge. Perplexed, he walked over and cleared his through to make himself known.

“Oh!” Marinette stepped aside and pushed Nathaniel forward, hands on his back. “Go on, don’t be shy.” Sabine stepped aside as well and smiled at him. He was surprised to see an assortment of desserts that were, in some shape or form, messed up. Or misshapen.

Noticing his wonder, Marinette explained, “this is where we put the pastries that get messed up somehow. Misshaping it when we take it out, or messing it up during production… It all goes here for us to eat later. Sometimes we’ll share for special people.” She whispered the last part, winking at Nathaniel.

“Well, then I guess I’ll take you up on your offer.” Nathaniel rolled up his sleeves and peered into the fridge.

It was going to be very difficult. He wanted to take them all home.

 

* * *

 

The shopkeeper’s bell jingled as he walked inside. He awkwardly stood at the front of the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery when he realized that no one was there. Instead, he looked around at the display. When he saw the pain au chocolat, he was thirsting for it like he thirsted for his coffee the morning after a sleepless night.

He turned on his heel to look at the other display and tripped over his feet, nearly toppling over the coat hanger by the door. In that moment, he let out a loud grunt that was in no way supposed to even happen.

 _“Just wait one moment, we’ll be right out!_ ” He heard Sabine Cheng’s voice from the kitchen. He was about to say back that there was no need to rush, but then he heard a familiar voice.

 _“Alright, Maman. I’ll see you tonight!_ ” He heard two sweet _bisous_ and felt his heart rate going up. Marinette was there. He should’ve expected it, but his brain was still on the same page as when he was too busy spending the entire night grinning at the ceiling.

“Hey, Marinette.” He said, once she walked out of the kitchen.

She saw him immediately and turned red. “O-oh! Hi, A-Adrien.” He was about to walk over when another taller figure came right after her. Judging from the height difference, he was probably taller than Adrien, because he was basically towering over Marinette. He could almost recognize the person, but couldn’t quite place it.

“Hey,” Adrien said, then tried to backpadel when he realized that he already said that. “Nice weather, huh?” He was awkward. Marinette and the other guy just locked eyes and grinned. He felt really, really, out of place.

Marinette fingered the hem of her shirt, still red. “So, did you decide on something? I’ll check you out.” He looked over to his left at the pain au chocolat. When he was about to tell her, she started stuttering. “I-I mean, I’ll cash you out! I’ll... “

“Don’t worry, I understand,” Adrien smiled. She looked away, smiling shyly. Her hand went up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He almost teased her for it, but was glad he decided not to. Considering they only became--friends?--very recently, he felt like a small action could push her away. Judging by her character though, it seemed very unlikely.

He pointed at the display and was about to name the dessert, when she cut him off. “Pain au chocolat? Alright, it’s…” she trailed off and looked off to the back. While she was silent, Adrien took another look at the guy beside her. They weren’t holding hands or anything. They weren’t even close enough to assume there was something going on. Who was this guy? “Hey, why don’t you come on back here?” Marinette pointed behind her. Adrien looked at the display longingly. But he also wanted to follow Marinette into the back. He put behind his hunger and went back, nearly bumping into the red haired guy.

“Excuse me,” Adrien apologized. The dude was definitely taller than him by about two inches but it was countered by the guy’s sheepish behavior. When Adrien looked at his face more, it all clicked. _Nathaniel from Literature_. Why was he with Marinette? For those five days when Adrien was actually in class, he never saw Marinette and him interact. “Nathaniel Kurtzberg, right?”

When Nathaniel spoke, Adrien realized that it was the first time he had ever heard him speak. “No problem, Adrien.” He stepped aside to let Adrien pass. Adrien went on ahead and joined Marinette, who seemed to be talking to her mother. Sabine Cheng was whispering something into Marinette’s ear, who looked scandalized. When she saw Adrien, Sabine came up with her arms opened wide for him.

Unsure what to do, Adrien held out his arms as well and felt the small woman walk into his arms, hugging him gently. When they let go, her arms lifted and were placed on either side of his face. He slightly bent over to they good look eye to eye. She was exactly as he imagined. The same kind air that Marinette exuded and cute, just like Marinette.

“You must be Adrien, ah?” She patted his cheeks affectionately. “I’ve heard a bit about you. Come on in, don’t be shy!” She squeezed his nose and stepped aside, gesturing to a small fridge that Marinette was standing by.

Marinette was putting desserts from the fridge onto a tray, filled with other misshapen desserts. “Whenever we mess up a pastry, we stick them in here for us to eat. There isn’t much, but you could even take it all if you wanted.” Adrien shook his head, reaching into his back pocket.

“No, I can’t take from you guys. I’ll pay--” Adrien was cut off when Marinette put her hand on his , stopping him.

“No, trust me. It’s fine! We never finish them anyways. But Alya’s not here anymore for us to give them to. Trust me, _it’s fine_.” Adrien tried to stop the grin from appearing on his face.

Adrien sighed, shoulders deflating. But his grin hadn’t left yet. “Well then, I’ll take you up on your offer. But only for Nino. I’ll still buy a pain au chocolat in the front. Think of it as a thank you for agreeing to meet me on Saturday.” he said, before getting started on putting desserts into a box. He felt guilty that he mentioned their agreed hangout on Saturday for the sole reason to make Nathaniel jealous. It probably wasn’t even a definite fact that he was into Marinette the way Adrien was. He glanced over while carefully transferring a mille-feuille and saw that Nathaniel was quietly glowering at him. His hands were balled up into fists, and the box he was holding was crumpling by the handle.

Adrien pretended not to notice anything and thanked Sabine before sliding past Nathaniel and into the front with Marinette. She cashed him out and smiled, sending him off. He walked out with a smile, slightly disappointed in himself for letting him watch Marinette and Nathaniel stand in the shop together, by themselves.

“Adrien, wait.” Marinette called out. Adrien turned back around and Marinette pushed a baggie into his hands. “For you. And don’t worry about it, I promise. Just make it up to me on Saturday.” he held the bag to his chest, surprised. He already had so many desserts, plus pain au chocolat he had bought, and now Marinette gave him more to eat? Nino and him were probably going to tip the scales tomorrow. He smiled down at Marinette.

“Hey, thanks a lot, I mean it.” He paused and took a look at Nathaniel, who still had barely said a word. “And… I hope you two have a great day.” Even when he said that, he couldn’t find himself leaving. He stayed rooted in his spot and was still staring at Marinette. She was looking at him awkwardly. _This is awkward._ Move, _Adrien,_ move!He thought that Marinette would’ve probably said something, but if she didn’t, he would’ve. But Nathaniel stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“It was really nice to meet you, man.” Adrien looked him in the eye and sighed.

“Ye-yeah, I’ll just… See you Saturday, Marinette.” He tried to wave with the hand holding the pastry box and finally walked out.

After Adrien left, he walked to the right and far enough from the store so that he could lean against the wall and groan. There was clearly nothing going on between Marinette and Nathaniel, but there was also _clearly_ something. At least, something to Nathaniel. He had something for Marinette. He never thought he’d be the type of person to be jealous when it came to romantic affairs(or lack thereof), but it was clearly one of his character flaws. And he’d just have to deal with it.

But he couldn’t just keep thinking about these things. He had a career he had to fix, and desserts he had to give to Nino.

He sent Nino a quick text and began walking to his studio. While doing so, he tried to keep his mind on his concert. It was different than any other concerts he’d ever done. Basically, the program was, _whatever Adrien Agreste feels like playing_. It may have well just been written like that on the actual program. But he couldn’t figure out a _theme_. The _theme_ of the concert, the songs he was going to play, even how long he was going to do it for. It was power that he was not used to having.

Two familiar looking figures shot past him from his peripheral vision and his head snapped. He thought it was Nathaniel and Marinette, probably joke-fighting and about to run into a meadow so they could fake wrestle around in the… the wild flowers or… or something. But it was just a couple that looked like the two. Except when he squinted his eyes more to see, he realized that they didn’t look like Marinette and Nathaniel at all. It was a blonde girl with her hair in two long braids, and a suave looking guy with his brown hair messily gelled back like Marlon Brando in _A Streetcar Named Desire_.

Adrien pursed his lips and shook his head, feeling his bangs fall down more on his face. Maybe he should try a different look when he wasn’t in concert or modeling. When he wasn’t working, he just towel dried his hair and let the air decide what to do with it, and usually he thought he looked presentable enough. Sighing, he continued to walk.

 

“So… You definitely like Marinette, right?” Nino still hadn’t eaten his palmier. Ever since Adrien had begun telling him his story, he just sat there gape mouthed, unable to respond until now. “Like… As in… I was right?” Adrien rolled his eyes and sat back in his padded chair. When he arrived home, Nino was already inside(Adrien gave him a copy of his key the moment he moved in) and waiting for his pastries. So, of course, Nino was the one sitting on the love seat while Adrien sat in his one-seater.

He rolled his eyes, ripping off a piece of his croustade. He didn’t want to admit it, but he did. “Yes, I do like Marinette. You were right.” He felt a slight pink tinge on his cheeks when he said that. He avoided Nino’s glance because he knew that if he did, he would be unable to hold back a sheepish smile. When Nino didn’t say anything, Adrien finally looked at him and immediately cracked an unintended smile. “Wh-wha-haha--” He started chuckling in a way that was definitely _not_ Adrien. He put down his pastry and covered his face in his hands, still laughing. After leaning back in his seat and allowing himself ten seconds, he sat up straight and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to calm himself.

“ _Man_ ,” Nino shook his head and slumped into the seat, beside himself. “I didn’t think you’d be one of those people who become so _stupid_ with love.” He definitely meant it jokingly and didn’t give Adrien any time to get insulted, because he also put his pastry down and jumped out of his seat to playfully punch Adrien in the arm.

“You-you- _you little rascal, you!_ ” Nino laughed, as he ruffled Adrien’s hair. He sat down again and started eating his palmier. “ _So_ , how did this happen?” Adrien shrugged. He still felt ridiculous as it’d only been about two or three days since he’d had his first actual conversation with Marinette.

He raised his hands up to Nino. “Relax, though. I’m pretty sure it’s just a crush.”

“ _Just a crush!_ He thinks this is just a crush!” Nino raised his arms up in exasperation. He looked to the left of him as if there was an audience watching the interaction. “Come on, man!” Adrien chewed his dessert thoughtfully.

“I mean, who else do you know just _likes_ somebody after knowing them for two days?”

“ _You’ve known Marinette since Freshman year!_ ”

“Yeah, but--” Adrien sighed. “I’ve only really talked to her, like--two days ago! Honestly, I’d really be rushing it if I _actually_ _really, really_ likes Marinette. I’d be crazy. I--there’s no way I _like like_ her. Not this soon.” Nino scoffed. At this point, he took off his shoes and sat criss cross in the seat so he could be comfortable.

Nino raised his free hand to quiet Adrien. “Listen, Alya and I have been _shipping_ you and Marinette ever since freshman year. No, you didn’t speak. But we _saw_ all of it. Listen!” Nino shouted again when Adrien was about to retort. He began to speak again, but rushed, so he was stuttering. “Th-th-the first time you two acknowledged each other! When you brought her name up in conversation for the first time! When you were bummed that you thought Marinette _hated_ you!” Adrien looked down at his feet. _I guess it’s true._

“You liking Marinette didn’t start because you actually found out that she was an amazing person _two days ago_ , you started liking her ever since Freshman year!” Nino was flailing his arms about wildly at this point. “So you _like_ Marinette. Go back to the bakery and-and… and _steal her away from Nathaniel_!” Nino was getting really excited. Clearly, he had been waiting for the exact moment to have this very conversation with Adrien.

Adrien chewed slowly on his croustade. “Listen, man. I’m sorry, but you seem very… uhh, excited.” Nino rolled his eyes.

“People were actually thinking you were celibate! Or asexual! Or both!” Nino shouted. Adrien motioned him to quiet down a bit. They were the only two in the big room. “So of course I’m excited to be talking romantic things with my best friend.” Adrien smiled.

“Wow. Thanks, bro.” Adrien said. Nino stretched his body out on the loveseat and covered his face with his cap. ‘I’m taking a nap’, Nino said. Adrien saluted his friend and finished off his pastry.

He walked over to his piano and thought about what he learned about himself today. He was jealous. Very, very jealous. But he was still just very proud of himself for being able to contain that. Even if it seemed like Marinette and Nathaniel were going to spend probably the entire day together, he knew he could put himself back into the running when they met up on Saturday.

Adrien stood next to the piano and let his fingers glide over the keyboard. Octave A’s. His fingers went up two more octaves and played the second A. Then, it all clicked in his brain. Jealousy… That type of fiery emotion… It was a tango. A fiery, jet-fuelled sadness that could sometimes be read as jealousy. He was sad because he was jealous, but he was happy because he liked Marinette.

He two-stepped to his huge shelf and looked for the one tango that he could not keep out of his mind since he watched Eduardo Rojas play it four years ago when he was sixteen.

 _El Choclo_ by Eduardo Rojas.

He began with the chords in the beginning. It was a prelude to a huge story. Seconds clashed with each other like the rippling realization that Marinette had become something important to Marinette’s life. Then it all stops.

A slower, softer introduction was Adrien’s confusion about how he felt. Why was Marinette hating him? Why did he care so much? _Oh, right_. How giddy and happy he was when he first realized with Salut d'amour just night. Then he walked into the bakery and saw Marinette with Nathaniel. It was a cruel wake up call. The main theme of the song sped up and slowed down and became a _forte_ just as fast as it decrescendos into a beautiful chorus of the main theme. It was back and forth. It was confusion, then happiness, jealousy, realization, then it was a call to action. That was Nino. It was all Nino.

When he finished the song, Nino was clapping from the couch, still lying down.

“You’ve found it, bro. You found all of it. You are now… _unfunked .”_


	4. Fascination Waltz - Beegie Adair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette have fun in the sun... light

Adrien woke up gently as the sun was shining onto his face. He slowly got up and stretched, feeling his muscles loosen up. He’d need to remember to shut the blinds at night when he slept. He looked at the clock on his wall and grinned. Today, we was going to meet Marinette. Sure, it wasn’t a  _date_ or anything, but he was excited to have a day with her. Her   _and_ his photographer, Monsieur Durand.

As he slowly began to wake up fully, he could feel his heart rate increasing. He’d only ever met other models when they were on the job or Nino when they wanted to hang out. And that was basically every other day that they hung out. Today was different, because he’d be going with the first girl he’d ever liked.

He got out of his bed and slid his feet into his slippers, making his way to his closet. Despite being Adrien Agreste, the model and Adrien Agreste, the pianist, he was Adrien Agreste, the dude who ran away from home. He didn’t bring many clothes, and despite living in the studio for two years, he didn’t often go out and buy more. His selection wasn’t necessarily boujee, either. It consisted of a few t-shirts, fewer button-ups, jeans, khakis, and one trench coat for chilly days.

Adrien ended up grabbing a white t shirt and jeans with his one trench coat. He figured he style himself casually, so he rolled up his jeans to his ankles and put on a pair of Adidas samoas. As he walked past a mirror to leave, he stopped. His head turned to the side and stared at his reflection. His hair was floofy and looked messy. He usually got by with his messy-stylish hair, but after seeing the attractive couple from two days ago, he was insecure about the state of his hair. He ran his hand through it and watched as it just fell back onto his forehead.

He’d gelled it back before. He’d even straightened it, permed it, or braided it down on one side. But all those things were done when he was in a shoot of some sort. If he tried to do something now, then the stylists would only revert it and do something else with his hair. Using his palms to flatten his bed head, he walked out the door.

 

Adrien waited at the lightpost to the left of Cafe de Flore, as he had also instructed Marinette to. He showed up thirty minutes before their scheduled meet-up time in an attempt to give Marinette the best fourth impression. He stood there waiting, hands crossed neatly in front of him, remembering the strict etiquette lessons he’d taken from Natalie as he grew up.

Marinette showed up fifteen minutes early and was pleasantly surprised to see Adrien already there.

“Adrien, you’re here early.”

Adrien turned around to give her a lighthearted comment about making him wait when his heart skipped a beat and he couldn’t muster any sounds to come out of his mouth. Marinette stood there, cute as usual. Her hair was down and done in these loose curls that looked so soft, like they would float with the most gentle winds. Her feet shuffled shyly in these light brown leather ankle boots that matched her army green dress that she wore over a white t-shirt. Her fingers nervously fiddled with the buttons of her brown trench coat.

While he was glad that he at least had the decency to wear a trench coat that matched Marinette’s, he was disappointed in himself for not dressing himself up more, after seeing Marinette looking like she really tried hard to look presentable that day. And Adrien hadn’t even done anything with his hair.

Adrien brought his hand up to the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly at Marinette, who was looking at him with this look that he could almost  _barely_ understand. The unidentifiable look turned into a gracious smile as she smoothed her hands over her linen dress. It was so fitting, and also unexpected. Adrien usually only saw Marinette in various shades of pink, blue, black, and white. Then again, he barely ever saw her. Green was a good color on her, just as every possible color probably was, as well.

“Well, shall we go?” Adrien stuck out his arm for Marinette to grab. Her eyes narrowed into little crescents as her smile reached her eyes. Gently, her hand found her way into the crook of his elbow and allowed herself to be led away. Adrien brought her through an alley and to an old shop that was hidden away. That day was one of the rare where the sun was shining brightly despite the chilly weather. It was perfect.

When they got closer to the shop, an old couple looked up from checking the contents of their moving boxes.

The old man looked up and his little grin widened into a smile when he saw Adrien. “ _Bonjour, un garçon_!” Adrien brought his hand up to wave and returned the greeting. “We’ve nearly cleared out the shop and left behind all the things you asked for. We’ll be back afterwards to pick it up.” Adrien thanked the man, said hello to his wife, and led Marinette into the shop.

Marinette looked back at the couple before asking Adrien, “Are they retiring?” He nodded with a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, and it’s a bit of a shame,” he said as they walked into the shop, where it was small and completely empty, save for a few shelves. “Believe it or not, but they used to be a really popular piano-violin pair. At some point in their careers, they stopped performing and started their own shop.” He remembered going into the modest, quaint shop and thinking it was just a little dusty shop that sold strings. But the moment he saw the back room, he couldn’t leave.

“Is this the place?” Marinette looked around, confused. There was no equipment set up, nor any humans. “Or are we just early?” Adrien didn’t answer. He only shook his head and took Marinette’s hand, placing it into the crook of his elbow again. He walked to the other side of the shop and opened the door that led to the back. It creaked and whined and refused to close once they got through.

The back was two times bigger than the front of the shop. It was a clear, empty space, save for a grand piano and four stringed instruments propped on stands. A window was right by the piano chair, where the sunlight was streaming in, highlighting the little dust particles that floated around. To the right of Adrien and Marinette were two other people. A man, who Marinette assumed to be the photographer, and a woman who was looking through her duffel bag.

“Ah, Adrien!” the photographer greeted, rather kindly. “You’re here early. And who’s this?” His eyes shifted from Adrien to Marinette. Marinette smiled and waved, not forgetting to greet him and the woman, who grunted without looking up.

Adrien motioned to Marinette, removing her hand from his arm. “This is Marinette. She’s sort of interested in designing and fashion, so I wanted to show her behind the scenes of a photoshoot. Marinette, meet Monsieur Durand.” Monsieur Durand didn’t acknowledge her, but had a sympathetic look in his eyes as he looked at Adrien.

“Sorry to say this, but this isn’t one of those photoshoots.” Monsieur Durand waited for the woman to make some sort of confirmation grunt, but instead she stood up and looked at the two.

“Yeah, we’re just going to be shooting whatever you’re wearing right now.” her eyes moved up and down to assess Adrien’s outfit. When she saw his shoes, her nose crinkled in distaste. Adrien lifted his foot off an inch from the ground and frowned. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate.  

The woman, whose name still hadn’t been given, turned back and kneeled over her bag, taking out a pair of brown oxford shoes. She held them out for Adrien to take, each shoe hanging off of one of her fingers. Adrien took them with both hands, a sheepish look on his face.

“Thanks, Margot.” The woman cracked a little smile for the first time and her eyes trained over Marinette. She felt a little more awkward as she held her hands behind her back.

Margot’s hands found each other behind her back the same way Marinette’s was as she walked around Marinette, critiquing her silently. Marinette turned her head to find Adrien and perhaps as him for assistance, but he was in the corner, tying his oxfords. “Marinette, right? Your fashion is mediocre, but there’s still room for improvement.” Marinette let out a few breaths of laughter. She was video-chatting with Alya in the shadows of morning trying to figure out what she should’ve worn. Somehow, they both decided that Marinette shouldn’t reveal her designs until later. She was now kind of regretting the decision.

“T-thank you? I-I mean thank you.” Marinette cleared her throat, standing up straighter.

Margot stopped revolving around her when she landed face to face. Her eyes were on Marinette’s feet, and it was at that moment where she changed her foot positioning because it felt like Margot was judging that, too.

“Good thing I had the brown ones, huh.”

“E-excuse me?”

The coordinator turned on her heels and addressed Monsieur Durand. “Enzo, I think you should cancel on the other girl.”

Enzo looked up from his camera and frowned. “Cancel Chloe? She wouldn’t like that.”

“Well, she doesn’t like anything. Just tell her we cancelled the entire shoot. The store hasn’t completely cleared out yet.” Margot shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Besides, she was the one that told the other model to cancel on  _us_ because   _she_ wanted to do it.”

“How did she even know about the shoot?” Enzo turned to look at Adrien, who was just about to walk over to the three. Adrien just shrugged, seemingly glad that Chloe was to be canceled on. “Oh, well. If you think we should cancel, then let’s do it. But who could possibly replace her?”

Margot placed her two index fingers on the corners of Marinette’s lips, pushing them up. “There’s a perfect girl, right here.” Adrien heard that and looked Margot in the eyes, bewildered. “Don’t give me that look, boy. You know what would’ve gone down if Chloe was here, instead.” Adrien’s face broke out into a gentle grin. Marinette tried to take her eyes off of him when she saw the way his head tilted a bit to the right, and how his hair slid across his forehead from the gravity. Or even how the only source of light in the room was the window, and the light that came from it was reflecting off the ground and onto him, bouncing off his eyes.

Adrien nodded encouragingly at Marinette, who could only muster out a weak,  _o-okay_  as he brought her to the piano bench.

 

* * *

 

Marinette was sitting on the bench next to Adrien, facing away from the piano as he plonked on the keys beautifully, playing a soft tune that was familiar to her. Adrien was grinning as he plonked.  _Plonk. Plonk. Plonk-plonk._

The camera that was clicking at a slow tempo at the two did not go unnoticed. But Adrien was enjoying himself, so he paid it no heed. Marinette, on the other hand, was visibly tense.

“ _Smile, Mademoiselle!”_ Enzo said for probably the thirteenth time, letting his camera hang from his neck and waving his armed exaggeratedly in front of him. He was flittering on his toes around the room, trying to find a good angle, but he was clearly having issues 

Marinette pulled at the corners of her lips and gave him a close lipped smile, looking into the camera. To that, Enzo groaned again. “ _No,_ look at the wall! Smile, but   _not like that!_ Look  _natural!”_ Enzo was definitely getting frustrated at Marinette, despite showing great excitement to having Marinette, a quote-on-quote, “normal girl” be the model in place of Chloe, a “menace”. 

Adrien was still plink, plank, plonk-ing away, in his own world. He was playing a french instrumental that he made up a few years ago based off of the music in Ratatouille that was based off of French music. He was doing exactly as he was told to, and he was enjoying every moment of it. Maybe the music was an ironic theme for the situation there. He remembered just about ten minutes ago when Marinette was standing next to him, trying to decide what she should do. Hand on his shoulder? Leaning on the piano? It was Adrien who suggested she sit on the bench the way she did. It was a shame he wouldn’t be able to see the shots until after the shoot.

Stopping for a brief moment, Adrien put his hand on Marinette’s shoulder, that was touching his, and turned it towards him. “Hey, I know you’re kind of uncomfortable because you’re new at this. But trust me, once you get the hang of it, it’ll be no problem.” Marinette looked into his eyes, and he saw the little moment of uncertainty. “Just close your eyes, and smile. Just a small one. It’ll be perfect.” When he said that he turned back to the piano and felt Marinette turn away from him, as well. He resumed his playing, and heard her let out a deep breath. Her shoulder rose and fell with the motion.

He didn’t know if he was doing exactly as he said, but he knew she was listening to some aspect of his small advice. Her body slowly leaned into his, and he felt her head fall onto his shoulder. He had an urge to stroke her head when he felt her hairs tickling his neck.

“ _Ah,_ ” Enzo sighed, immediately satisfied. “Great, Adrien,   _merci._ ” Adrien let a small grin play at his lips as he slowed down the tempo a little bit. It was a moment he never thought he’d have. Not with someone he was into, at least. Marinette didn’t move from her spot, and he didn’t know what sort of face she was making, so he couldn’t be sure if she was sleeping on his shoulder at that moment. He’d be fine with it anyways, but right then, he wanted her to be conscious the entire time. 

Adrien leaned his head to the right, resting his own head atop Marinette’s. He liked the way her hair was soft against his cheek.

“ _Non, Adrien,”_ Enzo tutted. “You can’t be falling asleep on her!” Adrien sighed and lifted his head up. Instead, he sped up the tempo and changed the song to a fast paced French polka. French music seemed so fitting for the shoot they were doing.

“A polka?” Marinette asked, turning her body around so she could see his fingers. They were moving so fast across the keyboard, Marinette was almost unsure if he was even pressing down on the keys.

Adrien laughed, letting his eyes glance over to her. “So you know of the polka, do you? I was wondering if you were in tune with my style, mademoiselle.” He finished the polka and put his hands in his lap, looking into her eyes.

Marinette was looking right back at him. The bench was small, so it couldn’t be helped that their shoulders were pressed up against each other. It also couldn’t be helped that their faces were only about ten centimeters apart. Every freckle on Marinette’s face could be counted by the soft glow of the sun that was filtering past Adrien’s body. He looked over her shoulder and saw the shadow they were leaving on the floor. He loved it. He loved that it was a representation of the two of them, trapped in time with one another.

“I’m a French girl, what did you expect?” Marinette shrugged her shoulders, a little smirk on her face. “You can’t walk past the river without hearing an accordian. It’s our aesthetic.” Adrien was still looking at her, allowing a moment of silence before he opened his mouth. Without saying anything, he pressed his lips together and turned back to the piano, lifting up his right hand.

Slowly, he played the melody of the French polka. When Marinette didn’t stir, he turned his head slightly and looked at her, nodding encouragingly. She looked between him and the piano, bewildered.

“It’s just you and me in this room,” Adrien said. Marinette scoffed. Obviously, there were two other people who were watching their every move. “If you try hard enough, you and I can be in our own world.” She was surprised, to say the least. After a while, Marinette put her own hand on the keyboard.

Adrien slowed down the pace and allowed her to follow after him, quietly murmuring, “that’s right, good job” and “don’t be shy” with a smile.

It took Marinette a while to get the hang of it. Whenever she messed up, clicked her tongue and tried again. Whenever she finally got a progression right, she let out a small  _Hah!_ that Adrien   _loved_. 

After a moment, Marinette had the tune under her fingers. Without saying anything, Adrien brought up his left hand and added a harmony, all while increasing his right hand’s difficulty. Marinette flustered, trying to follow along. “Wait-wha-”

“Just keep doing what you were before.” Adrien added grace notes and trilled quarter notes. His left hand was slowly going back and forth between chords. Sniggering silently, he increased the tempo.

Marinette protested loudly, but she was competitive. He knew it. She kept up, and they were fighting for the tempo. Whenever Adrien would speed up, Marinette would streak past him, making him speed up with her. His fingers were flitting across the keys like how he envisioned a playful date to the fountain to be like.

“Yes,  _yes!”_ Enzo exclaimed. “Perfect!  _Perfecto!”_ Enzo wasn’t even Italian, so Adrien didn’t really understand where the Italian came from. It reminded him of the guy who used to take his pictures when he was fourteen. “Alright, now do something else.”

Adrien and Marinette both reached a stopping point and dropped their hands to their laps. They simultaneously looked towards each other and broke out into little grins. “Well, that was fun.” Adrien said, absorbed in her eyes.

Marinette let out a breathless sigh. “Y-yeah… It really was.” He felt the atmosphere soften and his heart began to beat faster. If it weren’t for Enzo stopping the moment they had, he was pretty sure he would’ve moved in for a kiss. But now he was too self conscious.

“So, have you ever played an instrument?” Adrien stood up and moved around to the front of Marinette. He held out a hand, offering to pull her up. After having done so, he walked over to string ensemble set up neatly. He went right over to the bass and plucked a string lightly, grimacing at himself when the sound was barely audible.

She stepped in front of the cello and joined him at the bass, taking up the bow that hung off the stand. She went ahead and tried to bow the lowest string, but also cringed at the weak sound. “I really can’t say that I have,” she laughed.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to teach you,” Adrien said, taking the bow from her hands.

Marinette scoffed. “Teach me?” Adrien scoffed back mockingly. He didn’t say anything and only moved Marinette behind the bass and put his fingers on the fingerboard, placing hers atop his.

Adrien paused as he separated his fingers accordingly. “Maybe we should’ve started smallest to largest.” She laughed, shaking her head. When she did so, her back pressed against Adrien’s chest. He cleared his throat and pressed the bow against the string. “Just follow me.” She put her hand over his bow hand and followed as he bowed an open E.

Marinette laughed as she felt Adrien’s hand press harder on the string, trying to make a decent sound come out of it. Adrien laughed alone as he messed around with the bow, waving her arms around in the process. “Bass is hard,” she said. He leaned forward to look at their fingers on the fingerboard and tried to bow a fingered note. “H-hey, Adrien.”

“What?” Adrien looked down at Marinette, whose head was pressed up against his chest. Quickly, he moved away, chuckling awkwardly. “W-well, uh… w-why don’t you give it a try? On your own?” He moved away and pulled up a chair, sitting backwards on it as he watched Marinette furrow her brows in concentration. The entire situation was aesthetic.

She attempted to bow a note and immediately collapsed against the instrument. “My hand hurts,” she whined. Adrien shrugged his shoulders and stood up from the chair, helping her place the instrument back on it’s stand. “So how do you know about these instruments?” Adrien stood up straight and frowned.

“Just curiosity, I guess.” Adrien pressed his fingers against the strings. “Since I was young, I was playing with the symphony. I actually wanted to play cello for a while, but my… my dad didn’t let me. Didn’t stop me from talking to the people there, though. I only know the basics.” Marinette sighed, a little  _ahh…_ sound. She dragged her feet as she observed the other instruments. 

“Why wouldn’t your dad let you play cello?” She asked. Adrien sucked in a breath and had a troubled look on his face. It was that face that made Marinette really wonder what went on in his life. If the things he went through were much more complicated than anyone could ever think.

He smoothened out his sweater and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I had other things to focus on, you know? I-uh…” Marinette shook her head.  _You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to._ Adrien immediately knew what she meant with her look and her smile and the subtle tilt of the head. He opened his mouth to maybe give her a word of thanks, but for some reason the words couldn’t come out. He only had a strong sense of gratitude he hoped that he would one day learn to express. 

“Alright, let’s have a break,” Margot said suddenly. The entire time, she’d been just watching them from the side, not really saying anything. She pulled Enzo’s camera down away from his face and pulled him outside, talking about some sort of cafe she wanted to try out. When the creaky door shut--with quite an effort--, Adrien and Marinette were both left alone in the room.

Adrien turned the chair forwards and leaned on it, looking at Marinette. “So, what to do?” He wasn’t prepared for this. He was hoping to take her out for lunch or dinner or to show her his studio or something after the shoot, but now it was only twelve in the afternoon. Would it be too early to bring her out to lunch? Would that be breakfast? He definitely wasn’t hungry, so what if she wasn’t, either.

“Well, why don’t you show me how to play the cello?” Marinette picked up the cello bow and turned the knob at the end, seemingly surprised when it loosened. “And probably teach me what this is for,” she laughed. Adrien decided to stay in his spot and stared at her.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“Why are you just staring at me?”

Adrien wanted to point out that she looked beautiful in the well lit room, but he stopped himself. He  _really_ needed to get his mind off the aesthetic of the room. “I’ll teach you what I know about cello.” 

“And how much is that?” Marinette asked, pointing at him with the tip of the bow.

Playing along, Adrien lifted his arms up to his head. “Honestly, not very much.” Marinette laughed, lowering the bow. “But I’ll stay here and guide you. Just like how I was taught to play piano. Very  _not_ hands-on.” It was probably the only way he could try and keep himself from holding her and never letting go. 

“Well then, let’s see how good of a musical virtuoso you are.” Marinette picked up the cello and immediately looked confused. Laughing, Adrien slid over the chair that he had. She sat down and tried to fit the cello between her legs. She quietly freaked out, not understanding what she was doing wrong.

“The endpin,” Adrien said.

“Excuse me?”

“The endpin,” he repeated. “Cellists extend the endpin to fit their height.” Marinette turned the cello on its side. When she saw it, her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of shock and amazement. It took a couple tries for her to get the perfect height. When she did, she looked up to see Adrien stifling a laugh.

“Hey, I’m trying!” she complained. He shook his head, still smiling. He couldn’t  _not_ smile when she was around her. A little part of him said that it was the same for her, as well. 

“Alright, so…”

  
  


“I’m quite surprised, if I may say so myself.” Adrien said, nodding his head in satisfaction. Marinette grinned. She was getting along pretty well. Better than Adrien himself, apparently. “You should keep going with the cello. I sense much improvement in your future.” Marinette’s heart got louder in her ears. A part of her was hoping that he was saying so because  _he_ wanted to see more of her. 

Marinette shrugged, putting aside the instrument. “Maybe if I was younger,” she said.

“You can never be too old to try something,” Adrien protested gently. “Sure, you wouldn’t be like those little prodigies or in the Symphony, but at least you tried, Marinette.” Marinette sighed, grateful that he seemed to care that much. But she still shook her head.

“I’m just…” She sighed again. Marinette stepped around the cello and the piano and set herself down on the window sill, focusing her sight on her feet. “I don’t think I have those kinds of opportunities, Adrien. It may be different for you, but I’m just… The baker’s daughter. Trying to pick up the cello, buying it, getting lessons, taking time to practice when I’m studying and trying to submit designs at the same time… It’s too much.” She looked up from the sunlight that hit the ground at her feet and saw Adrien, who was looking away with an inexplicable expression. He seemed speechless, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how, or he couldn’t piece his thoughts together. “Look, it’s fine. I’m glad I could’ve had this experience in the first place.”

When Adrien looked back into her eyes, she couldn’t get herself to look back. She looked away and stared into the dusty corner or the ceiling where she assumed the elderly couple couldn’t reach and stopped trying to.

“I’m glad I could give you this experience.”

She looked up, surprised. As she looked those into those green eyes, she expected them to curve into little crescents and laugh, saying,  _I’m joking! Geez, was that dramatic._ ,  but she knew that he was serious when he said it. He was really happy for her and himself that he was able to give her something else to live for.

“I… I am, too.”

Adrien smiled, even while it took Marinette awhile to say it. It also took her a moment, but she smiled back, too, hoping that the shadow of the light was hiding the blush creeping on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know Fascination Waltz is definitely NOT a song that Adrien could've written himself, but I put that as the title so for anyone who feels the need to search up the song and listen to it themselves, that was the sort of song that Adrien played with and for Marinette. 
> 
> Wow though, I love French instrumental. I recommend listening to it if you ever feel the need to chill out by the window or feel a vibe when you're walking down hallways.


End file.
